Clopin brushed his wife's hair away from her face and kissed her temple. "Noelle," he whispered in her ear. She stirred slightly and nuzzled her face deeper into her pillow. "Wake up, Love," he whispered again, combing his fingers through her hair. "I have a question."

"Mmm…" she murmured, mind still half in sleep.

"Do fish know they're wet?"

"…Mmm?"

"Fish, do they know they're wet?"

She let out a light groan and Clopin chuckled softly. "You see, fish live their whole lives in water. They can't know the difference between wet and dry because they've never been dry before. So, do fish know they're wet?"

Noelle went quiet for a moment. "Clopin, can you at least wait until I open my eyes before you begin your foolishness?"

"I suppose I could," he laughed, "but I think you'll find today is a day where foolishness reigns supreme."

"…Feast of Fools?"

"Correct as usual, my love." Ah yes, the feast of fools. A day of celebration and a rather unfortunate anniversary. One year ago, Frollo began his reign of terror. His obsessive madness chased out the joyful fools and brought fire to Paris. Much had changed since then, and much for the better. Frollo was dead and a new, fairer Minister of Justice took his place. It was not perfect. Prejudice and tension still lived in small minds and the usual struggles of life still existed. But there were new, small blessings.

And some, he thought as he placed his hand on Noelle's swollen belly, are truly wonderful.

"Alright," Noelle sighed, beginning to rise, "I'm getting up." She opened her eyes and looked around the room. "Clopin…"

"Yes, my love?"

"It's still dark."

He looked around the room, still colored with the shades of night, as if noticing for the first time. "Ah, so it is."

Her gaze sleepily turned to the window. "No sun."

"He's not up yet, I'm afraid."

"So why are you?" she asked, her tired gaze falling on him.

"Just excited I suppose. You know how I love this holiday."

"I do. I also know you have a full day ahead of you and you'll still be up celebrating late into the night. Get some sleep now while you can."

"Oh alright," he said, laying his hand on her stomach again. "For you and the little one."

She covered his hand with hers and kissed his cheek before laying back down. He followed her, laying his head on the pillow and wrapping his arms around her.

A year ago, this simple moment would be impossible. It would exist only in his daydreams. Now, the thought of being separated from her existed only in his nightmares. And when he woke from such dreams, he needed only to reach over and find her there.

[-]

"Do you have any more questions for me?" Noelle asked.

"No, I don't think so," answered Clara, with confidence. She was one of Noelle's long time serving girls and being trained to become Noelle's assistant. Noelle needed someone to take on some responsibilities on days such as today. She would especially need the help with the baby coming in a few months.

"Are you sure?" Noelle insisted. She turned her head to the patrons in the common room. It wasn't too crowded yet, but it was early in the day and the ale hadn't begun to flow. "It gets especially rowdy on a day like today. If it gets too overwhelming, don't be afraid to kick everyone out and close up early."

"I'm sure it'll be alright Madame."

Noelle always felt a strange, proud twinge at being called "madame." She was still getting used to it, she supposed. Her hand rested on her stomach and she felt the baby moving inside her. Hopefully, she'd get used to "mama" soon, too.

Clopin appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around her. His hands found her belly as he kissed her cheek. "Almost ready to go?"

"Clopin, please," she protested, though a smile grew on her face. "I'm finishing up with Clara."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll do a fine job, won't you Clara?"

"I certainly hope so," Clara answered.

Noelle felt a pang of nerves. "Hope?"

"I have every confidence in you," Clopin said to Clara before taking Noelle's hand and leading her toward the door. "Come, my love. The master of ceremonies can't be late to his own festival."

"Like I said," Noelle called as she started out, "it's alright if you need to close early. Send for Phoebus if there's any trouble."

[-]

Clopin in his element was truly a sight to behold, this year especially. Every year before, there was always a tension boiling just below the surface. He used to joke about it, saying he liked to see how much he could get away with without Frollo calling for his head. Still, he was always on edge, doing acrobatic stunts on the thin line between celebration and disaster.

This year was different. The weight of Frollo's watchful eyes disappeared and he performed with more life and passion than ever before. His charisma was almost overwhelming and, before a crowd, he shined like the sun.

To Noelle, he was much more than an entertaining host. He was the man who bothered her with his strange musings about any topic which caught his attention, who fretted when he thought she was working herself too hard, who shed tears of joy on their wedding day, and who held her as she cried when she confessed how afraid she was of losing the baby. This man, this wonderful man she married… He had so many facets to him and most only saw one or two. He allowed her to see everything and she was lucky to know all of him.

The baby in her belly rolled and twisted, unable to stay still. Like child, like father, she thought as she watched Clopin perform several backflips across the stage.

"Noelle?" a soft voice called as Quasimodo approached her.

"Enjoying the festival?" she asked when he stopped beside her.

His joy beamed on his face. "Yes, very much."

A group of children came running by, several of them holding sticks or wooden swords. Two boys, locked in a heated battle, nearly crashed into Noelle. A third boy, Octavian, pushed them away before that happened. "Watch it! Watch it!" he cried. "Madame has a baby inside her!" The children continued past, their epic play uninterrupted by the shift in direction. Octavian lingered behind. "Alright, Madame?"

"Yes, thank you Octavian. Very gallant of you."

The boy smiled and tipped his imaginary hat before bolting off to rejoin his playmates.

Noelle felt another kick. She winced and gently rubbed her hand on her stomach.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Quasimodo asked.

"It's just the baby. Likes to move, just like its father."

Quasimodo glanced shyly at her belly. "Can I…"

"Of course, dear."

He carefully placed his hand on her stomach and his eyes grew as he felt the baby move. "That's incredible."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. And it truly was.

[-]

The inn's common room was cleared out by the time they got back. As Clopin predicted, Clara did a fine job of keeping the place together. Noelle thanked her and dismissed her to go home, leaving them alone in the quiet while celebrations still carried on outside. It felt like a breath of fresh air after escaping a stuffy room, a pocket of calm amongst the revelry.

"You didn't need to come home early with me," Noelle said as they sat down on a bench at one of the tables. "I know how you love this holiday."

"And let my girls go home alone?" He slapped his hand on his chest and looked aghast. "Never."

She smiled. "You're so sure it's a girl."

"Well, every old granny who's stopped us on the street has said, 'Look at how you're carrying. It's a girl for sure,' and who am I to question their wisdom?"

Noelle's smile grew faint and she stroked her stomach as an air of melancholy took hold. She was thinking about them again, every negative possibility that could happen. It would be foolish to say there was no reason to be worried. Every pregnancy brought risk. Everyone knew that. He imagined all women worried as they carried their children. Not that he could ever know from experience. He could never take her worries away, but he did what he could.

"She's going to be alright," he said softly as he covered her hand with his. "You're going to be alright."

"You're so sure of that, too." Her voice was quiet. She didn't quite believe him, but he could tell she wanted to.

"Miracles happen every day…To us… I've become spoiled for them, I'm afraid. I'll accept nothing less."

Her smile, the gentle one he loved, reappeared. She reached out and cupped his face in her hand. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"I ask myself that every day," he replied, touching his forehead to hers. He removed her palm from his cheek and kissed her fingers. Noelle leaned against his shoulder and they both went quiet for a moment, content to just be in each other's arms.

"Esmeralda performed beautifully today," Noelle said, ending the silence.

"She did."

"I was watching with Quasimodo. He told me something very interesting."

Clopin's interest peaked. "What's that?"

Noelle sat up and flashed a mischievous smirk. "Apparently Phoebus has been asking around, trying to gauge your opinion of him."

"Well, no one's going to know that better than me."

"True, but he's a bit nervous about coming to you directly."

"What about?" He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he wasn't sure he was going to like it.

"Well, he seems to think that if he wants Esmeralda's hand, you're the person to go to."

"Ha!" he let out a humorless laugh. "Esmeralda's going to do what Esmeralda wants regardless of what I think."

"Still, I think he wants your approval."

Clopin tapped his finger to his lips in faux contemplation. "Hmm… my approval… what to do… hm, hm, hm…"

Noelle smiled and shook her head. "You're going to give him a hard time, aren't you?"

"Naturally," he conceded with a smirk. "If I'm going to determine if he's good enough for Esmeralda, I'm going to need to put him to the test."

"The first test being how much torment he can take from you."

"Please, I'm not going to torment him" Clopin dismissed, though his wicked grin said otherwise.

"What are you going to do?"

"Not sure. I'm still plotting." He sighed and leaned his head in his hand. "These young lovers, so quick to jump to the alter."

"They should do what we did and spend most of their lives pining."

"Oh we did much more than pine," Clopin teased with a grin. "Maybe that should be my first test," he suggested, "how long they can keep up a secret affair."

Noelle's beautiful eyes flashed with mischief. "How do you know they're not already having a secret affair."

Clopin's eyes went wide and his grin dropped. "Why would you suggest that?"

Noelle laughed as she stood up and took his hands. "Come upstairs with me, Love. We can pretend we're having our own secret affair."

Standing to join her, he smiled and shook his head. "Why would I want to pretend?" He cupped her face in his hand and placed the other on her stomach. "This is so much better."

She kissed him. Noelle, his love, his wife, kissed him. Still a marvelous thing. She took his hand, her touch so familiar and natural, and led him upstairs.

The next morning, celebrations would be over and they'd be back to their usual routine. That was nothing to be disappointed about. Life, day in and day out, was unavoidably unpredictable and routine always left room for the unexpected. One needed some excitement to shake up their day and keep their imagination sharp, but they also needed a grounding force to bring them back to reality. Balance was key.

And so, with that balance they'd practiced and perfected all their lives, they'd face the coming days, months, and years, as always, together.